Dreamed 2007/7/10 by Wayan
I'm due to see a dentist
in Santa Cruz at four;
I'm searching for his
office, door to door
when a black limo glides to halt.
He croaks "get in" in an ugly way.
A dental chair is bolted to that iron limo floor.
He pierces my throat with a wire tie,
I feel like a calf with a nose-ring
Maybe! The flimsy tie
He mumbles "We won't maim or
cripple ya too bad,
but see, I gotta aim a
message to your dad."
He and my father are mafia leaders
All my relatives are crooks.
At five they dump me back on the street.
But here's one for YOU: touch me again
you drag me back in your hells.
I did not get run over, or dentisted, or mafiad, or anything. I'm still puzzling over this dream. This dream that said it was a message. Only not to me--to my dad. Who's dead. And, while he lived, didn't believe in dreams.
NOTE A MONTH LATER
I've been trying therapy monthly--all I can afford. So I went today again, and talked over the Mafia Dentist dream. No conclusions, when the session ended at ten to four. So I got on my bike, and...
At four PM I was trapped by
the light at Gough and Fell,
when a middle-aged black guy
walked out of flashback hell!
Obese he was, as near-obscene
as Mafia Dentist in my dream:
crisp black slacks and dressy shoes,
under that wobbling belly-ooze.
I dared not ask if he worked on teeth--
leave the nightmare in its grave!
Lift Life's skirt to peer beneath?
I'm brave. But not that brave.
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